


More Than Me (You Need Him)

by Babybucky1943



Series: The Asset [3]
Category: Marvel
Genre: Angst, Asset regression, Frottage, M/M, Masturbation, Sexual Content, diaper changes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2018-11-05
Packaged: 2019-08-13 22:33:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16481000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Babybucky1943/pseuds/Babybucky1943





	1. About Face

Brock Rumlow sat with his head in his hands for several minutes after Agent Mercer had gone.

The soldier stood there, not moving, but Brock could feel his discomfort.

“Commander,” the voice was soft and low, coloured with anxiety.

Rumlow looked up, at the blue eyes full of tears now.

“Did I do something to cause this?” He asked hesitantly.

The commander shook his head. “No babe. Pierce must’ve found out somehow that I broke protocol with you. Not sure how, but I’m a dead man now.”

The soldier sat on the edge of the bed gingerly. He didn’t like seeing Commander so upset. “Maybe it’s because Agent Bradley told him about the safehouse.”

Brock frowned, trying to understand what that had to do with this. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter now. The truth is out and I can’t go back.”

The Asset’s lower lip quivered. No more Commander? Who would be kind to him? Who would love him? A tear rolled down his nose and dripped onto his pants.

“Don’t cry, sweetheart,” Brock begged, his own eyes starting to water. “I’m not going to let them hurt you anymore either.” He kicked his boots towards the door and stripped his jeans off. “Come on. Let’s cuddle.”

The soldier followed suit, crawling up next to the commander once he was stripped to his diaper, and snuggling into his arms.

The commander reached around, gently putting the paci against the soldier’s lips.

He pulled it in with a satisfied little pop.

Brock felt him relax. “That’s a good boy,” he said softly, running his free hand over the muscular shoulder and gently kneading the scarring where the metal met skin.

The soldier uttered a small, satisfied grunt behind his pacifier. The shoulder was often sore.

They lay there for the better part of two hours, the soldier eventually dozing off.

Brock thought through all his options. He knew planning would overcome the nameless dark fear hanging over his head.

He carefully went through all the Asset’s gear to look for any trackers. Strangely enough, he only found one. Was he overreacting? He ran the conversation with Mercer and the Asset over in his head again. Better not to take chances.

The soldier started stirring and Rumlow walked to the bed. He stroked the dark strands of hair back from his face. “Hey, baby.”

The Asset stretched, the muscles rippling and giving Brock a nice view of his carved lower abdomen and Adonis belt. This time there was no way his cock was just twitching. He could see how wet the soldier was. “Oh god,” he whispered. “I can’t keep my eyes off you.”

The Asset opened his eyes, still a little sleepy, and pulled his pacifier out. “Hi Commander.” He gave him a lazy smile.

Brock didn’t know if he’d ever seen the soldier smile. “Hi gorgeous,” he said, his voice breathy. “You wanna have some lovin’ fun?”

He nodded,eyeing the commander’s crotch.

Brock didn’t need a second invitation. He climbed on top of the soldier, letting him feel the hardness against his wet diaper.

Without waiting, the soldier started stroking him, but the commander gently pushed his hand away. “Not yet.” He rocked against the soldier’s pelvis shuddering with arousal as his dick rubbed against the warm, soggy barrier between them.

The Asset started to feel the awakening of his own arousal and started rocking his hips up gently in time with the commander’s thrusting.

Rumlow groaned and sat back a bit. “Gotta get your diaper off. I wanna feel you.”

The soldier nodded, spreading his legs.

The commander pulled the soggy diaper off and drank in the sight of the Asset’s cock standing at full attention. “Oh yeah.” He pushed his own boxers off and started a slow, sensual rocking against the soldier again.

The soldier started thrusting against him as his arousal turned into a need to be satisfied.

The look of eager anticipation on the soldier’s face made Brock’s arousal climb hard. He could see the soldier wasn’t far off. He started thrusting faster, rubbing at the hardness of the cock underneath him. He felt the soldier grab his hips hard and knew he was going to go over the edge.

He did, with a groan and a long drawn out sigh as his cum spurted hard enough to coat his chest hairs.

A second later, Brock’s mixed with his. He tried not to be too loud. He could’ve sworn he almost blacked out with that one. His brain felt like a Fourth of July celebration. He lay on the soldier’s chest, panting.

James put his flesh hand around the commander’s back. It had been a good release. Now maybe he would stop talking about the scary things like leaving Hydra.

After a delicious ten hazy minutes, Brock stumbled to the bathroom to wash up. “You wanna shower? Or just clean up with a cloth?”

The Asset didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know.

Rumlow came back with a warm cloth. “This’ll do.” He gently cleaned the soldier off and then put a fresh diaper on him. “I hate to do this, but we gotta move before Mercer talks to Pierce.”

The soldier looked at him, not understanding.

Rumlow just vaguely waved his hand. “Never mind. I’ll make you your shake. You’re probably hungry.” He made the shake and put it in the cup, handing it to the soldier. “Thanks baby. That was amazing. I’ll never forget it.”

The Asset looked at him questioningly. There was something going on that he didn’t understand. Commander was acting different. Almost like he was drunk but the soldier knew he’d had no alcohol. He sipped his shake obediently. 

Rumlow packed their clothing in a backpack and packed most of what they’d brought in the large case. “Hey buddy, get dressed.” He handed him the tactical gear.

“Do we have a mission?” The Soldier asked, looking at the clothing. He sipped some more. Today the shake wasn’t making him feel good. His stomach hurt because he was worried. 

Commander didn’t answer. Just stared at the dark screen of his phone without moving.

The soldier finished his shake and put the cup down. He picked up the shirt.

Brock’s phone suddenly rang and he jumped, startling the Asset who yelped and curled into a tight ball.

He looked at the screen. Mercer. Panic made his heart pound. Should he answer? Was it a trap? He finally answered. “Rumlow.”

Mercer’s voice was quiet. “Brock, you’re in deep trouble. Go somewhere else for awhile until this blows over. Pierce knows stuff. What did you do?”

”I don’t know,” Brock said quietly. “Someone said something but it must be lies.”

”Problem is, he believes it. He wants the soldier back. I understand if you won’t be back. Send the Asset back. I’ll meet him at the DC airport tomorrow afternoon.”

”Yeah Okay,” he said. 

Rumlow hung up, his stomach feeling like a rock in his gut. His fears were confirmed. Somehow though, knowing that helped with his panic. Now he could plan around it. 

With a sudden firm resolve he got up and finished packing things to his liking.

He got James dressed in his tactical gear that was still in a messy pile on the bed, and combat boots. He packed his regular clothing into another backpack along with his pacifier, bottle and some diapers.

The soldier couldn’t comprehend what Commander was doing but when he was told to put his backpack on he obeyed without question.

“Come with Commander baby.”

They walked out of the hotel room, leaving the large case in the room, labelled for flight back to Alexander Pierce. It had the soldier’s tracker in it.


	2. Out of Control

The soldier followed Commander silently, taking care not to pull on the leash or distract him. He seemed lost in thought and he didn’t want to deepen the furrowed look on his masters face. He was sure that the commander’s sadness had something to do with the phone call from Agent Mercer. He was in trouble with Secretary Pierce. How could he decide whom to protect? He was programmed to protect both of them but what happened if they were fighting each other?

His anxiety had grown with each passing moment. Worse even, than the fear that accompanied punishment from Hydra. He knew what to expect in those situations. This was a total break from routine and control.

He was used to not being told things until he needed to know them, but that was when Commander was in control. He didn’t seem in control now. He just seemed sad.

They left the hotel by a back exit, slipping away into the gathering night. The soldier wasn’t unfamiliar with moving under cover of night. They had done it many times. Surveillance, surrounding an enemy, sneaking up on an enemy. It was all easier done in the dark. This wasn’t any of those things. He wasn’t sure why they were using the cover of night this time. Or where they were going. The commander had given him no information beyond saying he would take care of him. It wasn’t a mission even though he wanted it to be. He wanted the commander to control the situation. Maybe Commander needed to be harsh with him to feel in control. He desperately wanted the commander to exert control over him.

“Sir,” he said softly.

The commander glanced at him. “Yeah?”

The Asset paused, worrying his bottom lip. “Would it help you if you could punish me? Slap my face or beat me.” His voice was almost pleading.

Brock frowned. “Why the hell would I do that? No it wouldn’t help. Just let me think, okay?”

The soldier relapsed into silence, worry and fear making his stomach tight.

They walked for several miles before the commander stopped. “We’re going to take a train to New York.” His voice wasn’t strong. It sounded tired. Resigned. Not even really an order. Just information.

“Train?” The soldier tried not to let his panic creep into his voice.

The commander knew the soldier’s history. “I’m sorry sweetie, this is the best way to go undetected.”

James tried to ease his breathing as he nodded slowly, following once more when the commander tugged gently on the leash. The Commander knew how he felt about trains. He thought he might vomit but that would only make the commander feel worse. He had to just work through it. He thought instead of Secretary Pierce. How it felt when he had beat him. He was always in control. It had hurt, but the soldier knew where he stood.

They walked all the way to the train station that seemed busy, even at this hour.

Rumlow looked around suspiciously, sure he saw a hydra agent at every corner. His head ached so badly from trying to think everything through.

The soldier scanned the yard. “We are safe, sir. No hydra agents appear to be in the vicinity.”

“You stand guard out here. I’ll go in and get tickets,” he said, unhooking the leash and placing the soldier firmly against a post on the platform outside the ticket booth. “Stay.”

He nodded hearing the order and being glad for it. His stomach hurt so much. He just wanted to snuggle into Commander’s arms.

Brock disappeared into the building.

The soldier stood perfectly still, only his eyes moving, tracking any person that looked even slightly threatening. Stay. An order. Commander’s order.

His stomach wasn’t settling. He couldn’t be sick. Cold sweat broke out on his forehead. His stomach rolled dangerously. There was a garbage can a few feet away but he’d been ordered to stay. What to do?

He tried to concentrate on the people on the platform. It was mostly young runaways and older people that waited for the trains.

One young punk saw the soldier and swaggered up. “Hey old man, gimme your wallet.”

“I don’t have one,” the soldier answered. His voice sounded far away over the rushing sound in his ears.

“Don’t try to cross me,” the boy sneered, his young voice full of fury.

“You don’t want to pick this fight,” The soldier warned, trying to focus. The nausea was building fast.

The kid was cocky and continued to taunt the man.” I’m gonna stab you if you don’t. Gimme cash!” He snarled.

Rumlow came out and saw the altercation. “Hey! Get away from him.”

The boy spun around. “Who are you?”

“The assassin’s trainer.” He motioned slightly towards the Asset.

The boys eyes widened. “A-a-assassin?!?” He backed off, running away at top speed.

Brock chuckled mirthlessly and took out two tickets. “Took a bit of finagling to get them without ID but they let me once I told them we were leaving the country. And when I showed them a bundle of cash. I left all my cards in the trash in the bathroom.”

He eyed the soldier with concern. “You okay?”

He shook his head, pointing desperately at the trash can.

“Go!” Brock said.

The Asset dashed the few feet and vomited into the trash can. When his stomach stopped heaving he straightened up, rubbing his sleeve across his mouth. The acrid taste of acid burned his throat and lingered on his tongue.

The commander pulled a small bottle of juice out of his backpack. “Sip this.”

The soldier nodded gratefully.

They boarded two hours later at 0200 hours. The train was a long sleek affair, designed for comfort and efficiency. Rumlow led the Asset onto the train and found their room on the sleeper car. They were both exhausted.

They sat down at the small table and looked out the window. He needed to try and calm the soldier down. He knew that’s why he’d thrown up.

“I’m taking you to Brooklyn,” Brock said, his voice soft.

James frowned. Brooklyn. Brook....lyn. It sounded familiar. Who was Brooklyn? He looked at Commander but he was staring at the table, once again, lost to the Asset.

The train started with a jerk and James grabbed onto table with both hands, nearly breaking the plastic frame on the left. His breath came in shallow gasps. He lost control of his bowels and whimpered.

The commander broke from his reverie and took the soldier’s hands in his. “Hush baby. You’re okay.”

“I’m ah.....” he paused. “Im. Um......” he frowned fiercely. “I need clean diaper Commander.”

Rumlow heard him. “Ahhh, shit...” he breathed out softly. “I thought I smelled something.”

“I’m sorry,” the soldier cried softly.

Brock patted the bed. “It’s alright honey. Let’s get you changed. We’ve had a very long day.”

Once he was clean and dry, he crawled into bed, feeling like the tightness in his chest was going to strangle him. Tears dripped silently off his face onto the pillow.

A few minutes later, the commander’s arm came around him and he felt the familiar touch of his paci on his lips. He grabbed at it like a thirsty man grabs water. He sucked on it vigorously and finally felt the tension ease.

Brock lay beside him, awake, long after he heard the soft snores that told him the soldier had given in to his exhaustion. Poor guy didn’t understand what was happening. He had to get his shit together and be Commander for the soldier until they got to Brooklyn.

There, they would find out if past and present could collide without breaking. He hoped he was doing the right thing.

He was pretty sure though, given the history lesson he’d had in DC a few weeks ago, that Steve Rogers might be happy to see his old war buddy. Hopefully he wouldn’t give Captain America a heart attack. It was his one shot at getting help for one James Buchanan Barnes.

Otherwise known as Bucky.


	3. The New Handler

Rumlow must have drifted off eventually. He woke to the soldier shaking him.

“Commander.”

Brock rubbed his eyes and opened them, looking bleary eyed at the asset. “What’s sa time?”

“0845 hours,” the soldier answered. “Your alarm has been going off for almost 25 minutes.”

“Train’s gonna be stopping in Brooklyn soon,” Brock said, forcing himself up. “Let’s get you changed and then we’ll get dressed and packed up.”

The soldier was thinking about his words. “Brooklyn is a place.”

Rumlow nodded.

“Do we have a mission there?” The soldier wanted to know.

Brock finished changing him. “No, James. We don’t. I’m taking you there to meet Steve Rogers.”

James looked at him for explanation.

“He was your best friend in the war.”

The soldier didn’t remember the war. He didn’t remember Steve Rogers either.

“He’ll call you Bucky,” Brock continued.

“Who the hell is Bucky?” The Soldier asked in confusion.

Rumlow looked at him for several minutes. “You are.”

James frowned, trying to make sense of the commander’s gibberish. “I am ...Bucky? But I am James.”

Rumlow nodded slowly. “James Buchanan Barnes. Steve called you Bucky. You’ll be staying with him. I don’t want to give you back to Pierce.”

The Asset stood there, trying to process this. Why was he Bucky? How was he Bucky? Who was Steve? Where was Commander going? He uttered a small, pitiful cry of angst and confusion. He wanted Commander to hold him. Instead, he found his pacifier on the bed and put it back in his mouth.

Brock felt awful and patted the soldier’s shoulder. “Hush sweet boy. It’s alright.” He helped him get dressed and made him a shake. “Try to have your breakfast.”

The Asset sipped it slowly, his lower lip quivering. He sucked his pacifier in between sips to calm down.

Brock finished getting dressed and sat down, putting his arm around the soldier. “What’s wrong, baby?”

“I don’t know Steve.” He turned his tear stained face on Commander, willing everything to be okay.

“But Steve knows you,” Commander said. He gently took the pacifier and stuck it in the side pocket of the soldier’s backpack.

The train was slowing down now. The soldier gave his half finished shake to the commander, feeling his stomach roll with nausea. He was going to be sick again.

Brock saw him pale and wondered if he would be able to keep down the bit of shake he’d gotten down. He attached the leash to the soldier. No telling what he would do in his current mood.

They got off the train, and the smoggy air hit them full in the face. The soldier frantically motioned to the first trash can he saw.

Once he’d finished heaving, Brock rubbed his back. “Relax. I won’t leave you alone right away.”

At those words, the soldier relaxed visibly. He had thought Commander would put him on this Steve Roger’s doorstep, ring the doorbell and run.

The commander found a dim corner and sat on a bench with the soldier. He quieted his own anxieties and looked up Captain America’s address.

The taxi drove through the streets of Brooklyn, weaving through the ten o clock traffic. Brock was really hoping Cap would be home. He paid the driver, and they got out, looking up at the square brown building.

The apartment building was unassuming. Much like the veteran himself.

The soldier’s knuckles were white as he grasped his backpack tightly with his flesh hand. He didn’t know what to expect and he still didn’t understand what was going on, really.

Rumlow tugged gently at the leash and they went inside. They took the stairs to the fourth floor, and finally they stood in front of apartment 404. His stomach was doing somersaults now too. He knocked sharply.

The soldier looked at him, eyes dark with anxiety. What if......

The door opened and they were face to face with Steve Rogers.

“Captain,” Brock said hoarsely. “I have someone I’d like you to meet.”

James stared openly at the man before him. He was built like a soldier. His short blonde hair was a little mussed, like maybe he’d been running a hand through it.

The look of shock as his blue eyes roamed over Bucky’s face made Brock wonder if he should call 911.

“Bucky?” Steve’s whole world stopped in that moment as he stared at the face of his best friend who had been gone and thought dead almost seventy years ago. He saw the metal arm then looked back at the sweet face. It was clear that Bucky didn’t remember him. “What...? How...?”

The soldier looked from the commander’s face to the captain’s.

“We need your help.” Rumlow smiled. “It’s been a few years.”

Cap let them in, still looking at Bucky like he was seeing a ghost. “Where has he been? Where did you find him? I thought he was dead!”

Rumlow patted the soldier’s back, pointing to a chair. “Sit.”

To Cap, he said, “I’ll start at the beginning.”

The soldier sat stiffly, trying to ignore the captain’s amazed looks. He wanted his paci. Or to snuggle with Commander. He was feeling very out of place. He pulled the pacifier out of his backpack and put it in his mouth, leaning on the commander’s shoulder. The leash was still in Commander’s hand and that was comforting as well.

Steve looked from Rumlow to Bucky and back again. Unbelievable. He felt like he was in a dream. He was hearing what Rumlow was saying. About hydra having taken Bucky back in 1943. It just wasn’t processing. He tried not to stare at the pacifier though. He also noticed the leash. Hydra liked to control their subjects. Poor Bucky!

The commander noticed the soldier’s discomfort. “He probably needs to be changed. He’s pretty wet”

Steve looked at him in confusion when the words registered. “Changed?”

Rumlow sighed. “I don’t know exactly how else to put put it you. Pierce took away his bladder control years ago already. He’s been in diapers ever since.” He put the backpack on the table and emptied the contents. “I’ll make sure and get you a case of diapers before I leave.”

“Okay,” Steve said slowly.

“You gotta be careful feeding him too.” Rumlow pushed the shake packets towards Steve. “He has a sensitive stomach.”

Cap nodded. “Alright. And the uh....?” He motioned to the pacifier. Rumlow smiled a little. “Just a comfort thing.”

Steve shrugged. “Okay. Got it.” Bucky was sucking on it like it was a lifeline. He was thrilled however to have Bucky back.

Rumlow stood up. “James, Steve will take good care of you. When I can come back, I will.”

The soldier’s eyes filled with tears once again. He pulled the paci out. “Commander, who will love me now?” His lower lip quivered uncontrollably.

Brock’s bravado wavered. He had to stay strong. “Steve will love you, baby. I promise. I have to go.”

When the commander had gone, Bucky stood there, sucking his pacifier, and avoiding Steve’s eyes. He hung onto the end of the leash as though it would help him feel control.

Steve wondered what he could do to ease Bucky’s angst. He could feel the terror and confusion in Bucky’s stance. They had been best buddies, even if Bucky didn’t remember.

 He went into his bedroom and looked around. Spotting a brown teddy bear that he’d been given as a gag gift last Christmas, he took it and brought it back to his new houseguest.

“Bucky,” he said softly. “I will take care of you. I do love you. To the end of the line.” He pressed the bear into his flesh hand.

The soldier folded his fingers around the softness and brought it to his cheek. The bear was also comforting.

“Let’s get you changed,” Steve said gently.

He slowly met Steve’s eyes. Maybe it would be okay with this new handler. He seemed nice. Like Commander. He held out his leash to Steve and nodded.


End file.
